


Breakfast Can Wait

by schittposting



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breakfast, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Patrick Brewer is a Troll, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Service Top Patrick Brewer, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schittposting/pseuds/schittposting
Summary: David wraps his arms around Patrick from behind and starts kissing his way up Patrick’s neck, starting at the collar of his t-shirt and heading toward that spot behind his ear that makes Patrick squirm.“David,” Patrick says, “I can’t concentrate when you’re doing that.”“Do you know how sexy you are when you make me breakfast?” David says into Patrick’s ear, following his words with his tongue and sucking Patrick’s earlobe into his mouth.“Okay, if you keep doing that, this pancake is gonna get burned,” he says, flipping it.Patrick's making pancakes for breakfast. David has other ideas.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 24
Kudos: 220





	Breakfast Can Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Breakfast Can Wait](https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x15z5hk) by Prince.

David wakes up on the morning of his day off to the smells of coffee and butter coming from across the apartment. He’s migrated over to Patrick’s side of the bed, probably so he could soak up the warmth after Patrick got up, though that’s gone by now. Even so, he’s very cozy, and the bed feels almost too good to leave, but those delicious smells eventually win out, and he drags himself into the kitchen. Patrick is standing over the stove, spatula in hand.

“What’s this?”

“Banana pancakes. You asked me to make them.”

“I did?”

“Yep. When I got out of bed, you said, ‘Make me pancakes.’ Demanded it, actually.”

“I have no memory of that. But it does sound like me.”

Patrick shakes his head incredulously. “Your eyes were still closed, but you sounded so sure about it, I assumed you were awake.”

“Well, thank you for making them. They smell amazing. I have some pretty good ideas in my sleep.”

David wraps his arms around Patrick from behind and starts kissing his way up Patrick’s neck, starting at the collar of his t-shirt and heading toward that spot behind his ear that makes Patrick squirm.

“David,” Patrick says, “I can’t concentrate when you’re doing that.”

“Do you know how sexy you are when you make me breakfast?” David says into Patrick’s ear, following his words with his tongue and sucking Patrick’s earlobe into his mouth.

“Okay, if you keep doing that, this pancake is gonna get burned,” he says, flipping it.

“What if I suck on something else?” David turns Patrick halfway toward him and moves around to his front. His hands roam down Patrick’s torso, settling on Patrick’s hips as he drops to his knees in front of him.

“Is this supposed to be  _ less _ distracting?”

“Maybe I want some sausage to go with my pancakes,” David says, shimmying a little as he leans in towards the growing tent in Patrick’s pajama pants.

Patrick laughs. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, not my best line.”

“Get up, David.” He gives David a hand getting off the floor, then puts his hands on David’s waist and backs him towards the adjacent counter, away from the stovetop. When David’s backside hits the counter, Patrick grinds against him, just once, so David can feel that he’s hard, then pulls his hips away, just out of range. David whines a little as he tries to move his own hips forward enough to meet Patrick’s. Patrick’s hands slide from David’s waist to his hips, keeping him pinned firmly against the counter. David’s hands roam from Patrick’s shoulder to the back of his neck, raking through the short hair at his nape, before moving down his chest, his stomach, his—

Patrick’s hands move suddenly from David’s hips to his wrists, and now those are pinned to the counter instead.

“Are you trying to get me to spank you with the spatula?”

David’s eyes light up. “Is that an option?”

Patrick takes a deep breath. David can tell he’s tempted, and fuck, that’s hot. He tries to move his wrists from where Patrick still has them pinned, just to feel how easily Patrick holds him in place.

Patrick has that look on his face, half annoyed, half turned on. “Up,” he says, moving his hands to the backs of David’s thighs and helping him onto the counter. “You’re going to stay here until the pancakes are done.”

David thrills at his commanding tone.

“Stay,” Patrick says again, handing David a mug of coffee.

David sips his coffee, which Patrick apparently had ready and waiting for him with just the right amount of milk and sugar, and watches his fiancé go back to the pancakes. The one he takes off the pan does look a little black on the bottom, which Patrick gives him a pointed look about, but David can’t say he has any regrets. Especially not when he looks at Patrick’s shoulders and how the t-shirt hangs off of them, Patrick’s ass in those thin pajama pants, Patrick’s arms as they move to butter the pan again and pour on more batter.

With the next pancake cooking, Patrick comes back to David and moves his knees further apart so he can stand between them. Taking the mug from David’s hand, Patrick sets it on the counter beside him and pulls him down for a slow, deep kiss. Patrick’s hands rest on David’s thighs as he bites gently on David’s bottom lip, tugging a little with his teeth and making David moan softly. David lets his hands roam over Patrick’s broad shoulders, appreciating the feel of those muscles flexing as Patrick leans in even more. Dragging his lips from David’s, Patrick kisses across his stubbled jaw and down his neck, and David’s breathing turns shallow as Patrick sucks at his pulse point, his hands sliding up his thighs, higher, higher, almost to where David aches to be touched—

And then Patrick pulls back, looking smug and pleased with himself and so, so hot. “Time to flip the pancake,” he says, heading to the stove with a wink. David’s head hits the cabinet behind him with a thump, and his eyes are closed but he swears he can  _ hear _ Patrick’s smirk.

When Patrick comes back to David and David’s fingers curl around the hem of his t-shirt, he lifts his arms and lets David peel it off him, then indulges David’s wandering fingers as they explore the smooth, taut skin of his pecs and biceps. His hands are at David’s waist, sneaking under the hem of David’s own t-shirt, and David manages to get his hands off Patrick long enough for Patrick to remove it. Patrick’s fingers trail through his chest hair, then down into his stomach hair, until they reach the waistband of David’s pajama pants.

“I think that one's done now,” Patrick says, taking his hands off David once again. David’s fists clench in frustration as Patrick goes back to the stove and moves the pancake to a plate.

A little more butter in the pan, more batter poured in, and he’s back again, this time starting right where he left off, with his hands at the waistband of David’s pajama pants. He tugs a little at the elastic and David lifts his hips, letting Patrick slide them off so he’s sitting on the counter in only his black boxer briefs, the outline of his erection clearly visible inside the silky fabric. Patrick’s thumb traces a line up the hard bulge, making David gasp when he reaches the small wet spot at the top. He bends down and traces the same line with his lips, kissing and tonguing David through the thin fabric. When he gets to the tip, he pulls it into his mouth, underwear and all, and gives it one slow, hard suck before pulling off and heading back to the stove. David whines in protest as his hips thrust against nothing.

When Patrick returns, he holds David’s hip in place with one hand as he yanks David’s underwear down with the other, just enough to expose David’s straining erection, and David doesn’t even care about the rough treatment of his designer boxer briefs because he’s finally feeling Patrick’s hot, wet mouth enveloping his cock. He moans with relief, and he can feel Patrick moaning around him as well, as if he’s just as desperate for this as David. Patrick’s mouth feels so good, moving up and down, taking him a little deeper each time. He’s close already, so close, if Patrick just kept going a little longer, took him a little deeper—

But Patrick’s pulling off already, and David groans in frustration, his hand already starting to move to his cock. “No,” Patrick says, grabbing David’s wrist and holding it firmly. “That’s mine. I’ll be back to take care of it in just a minute, but no touching. Okay, David?”

David responds with another frustrated groan.

“Okay, David?” Patrick repeats, a little more firmly this time.

“Okay,” David whimpers, because even though he kind of hates Patrick right now for teasing him like this, it’s such an incredible turn-on.

Patrick places David’s hand deliberately on the edge of the counter next to his knee, and moves his other hand to the same spot on the other side. “Don’t you dare move those hands,” he says as he walks back to the stove.

It seems to take Patrick forever to move the pancake to the plate, butter the pan again, and pour on more batter. David thinks he’s dragging it out, making it take longer than necessary, just to tease him, but eventually he comes back over to the counter. He looks at David’s hands, clenched on the edge of the counter where Patrick left them, knuckles white, and smirks. “Very good, David,” he says, giving him a light, teasing kiss on the lips as he wraps a hand around his cock. “I think I should reward such good behavior.”

He bends down and starts sucking David again, his hand working him at the same time now. David looks down to see Patrick’s other hand moving inside his pajama pants, and the idea that this little game is making Patrick as hot as it’s making him has him close again in no time. His hands go to Patrick’s head, his fingers burying themselves in the short, curly hair and tugging. This spurs Patrick to suck harder, faster, and soon David is coming in his mouth and Patrick is swallowing him down.

Patrick pulls off slowly, gently, and grins at David as he licks a stray drop of come from the corner of his mouth. David pulls him in for a deep kiss, tasting himself on Patrick’s tongue.

“Why don’t you go flip that pancake and then I’ll finish you off?” David says in Patrick’s ear.

“That’s, uh, not necessary,” Patrick blushes.

“Oh, I see,” David looks down at Patrick’s pajama pants and sees a wet spot there. He’s not sure why the sight pleases him this much, but it does. He pulls Patrick in for another kiss, wrapping his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and his legs around his waist. Patrick kisses him back, lazy and satisfied, then startles away right as the smell of something burning reaches David’s nose.

Patrick rushes to move the pan off the burner and turns it off. The pancake is clearly burned beyond saving, so he dumps it in the sink and sprays it with water to stop it from smoking.

Luckily, there’s not enough smoke to set off the fire alarm, and Patrick’s laughing as he comes back over to David, who slides off the counter, pulling his underwear back up.

“Let me change my pants, and then let’s eat,” he chuckles, kissing David on the cheek. David nods, leaning into the kiss and picking up his mug so he can finish his now-cold coffee.

“You’re such a distraction, David,” Patrick says as he rifles through his dresser for a clean pair of underwear. “Maybe I should give you that spanking with the spatula after all.”

David almost chokes on his coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my wonderful beta reader, Timmers, and to K for inadvertently giving me the idea for this fic and bringing me out of a creative slump. Y'all are the best.
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://schittposting.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
